the year of the long way home
by danahscott
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the for the final year of Hogwarts. We know what happened, but what was it like? What was it like to be in love during a war? Dean and Seamus know. (deamus, inspired by fanmix, slightly canon divergent bc dean goes to hogwarts for a bit and then goes on the run)
1. Chapter 1

Seamus didn't dare speak. He didn't dare look over at the empty beds. Instead of leaving him full, like usual, the food from the Great Feast just left him feeling heavy. Behind him, Dean sagged on the bed.

"Looks like they're really not coming, then. I thought maybe…" he said, and Seamus sighed. It would be harder this year, without them. Things felt different at the Feast. The new faces at the teacher table were ominous and daunting. But the absence of a familiar one was the worst of all. If Dumbledore died, was anybody safe? It was clear what the answer was. Seamus cleared his throat.

"We could go," he said. He'd been thinking about it for a while now, but saying it out loud made him feel like they could do it. He heard Dean give a little laugh of disbelief. Less of a laugh, more of a breath.

"Where?" Seamus tried to bite back the disappointment. If Harry could take off, then why the hell couldn't they? Though, in the back of his mind, he knew Harry wasn't hiding. Bloody hell, knowing him, he was probably fighting within an inch of his life. Seamus refused to even consider the thought that Harry could be dead.

"I dunno," he said, at last. "Far, I guess. Far from all-" he made a gesture "-this. Somewhere safe." He finally, reluctantly looked at Dean, and his sad, pitying eyes made Seamus wish he hadn't turned around at all.

"Nowhere's safe, Seamus." Seamus nodded, too quickly. He wished he didn't love Dean so much. It wasn't fair to have to love someone in the middle of a war. Why couldn't it have waited until they knew they would live to see the next year?

But unfortunately - or fortunately, Seamus didn't bloody know anymore - even if he died or god forbid Dean died, they would always love each other. When you love someone as much as Seamus loved Dean, living a life where you stopped loving them was unimaginable. Loving him was the only thing that managed to both anchor him and terrify him all at once.

Seamus was about to say something else, but then Neville came in, accidentally dropping his suitcase with a loud bang. He stood for a second, smiling just slightly. "Hey, mates." Seamus felt his heart crack a little, but in the good way. A lot of things were different, but some things never changed.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Seamus couldn't sleep. Three beds away, Neville was snoring softly and soundly. Seamus rolled over, facing Dean in the bed next to him, his back turned to Seamus.

"Dean? You awake?"

"Yeah." Dean rolled over to face him. "Can't sleep?"

"No," Seamus admitted.

"Come here." Seamus slid out from under his covers, braving the cool air. He crossed the few feet between them and slid under the warm fleece blanket Dean's mom knit him Christmas of their third year. The feeling of Dean's legs against his electrified the room. Their faces were only a few inches apart. "If we did leave," Dean whispered, "where would we go?"

Seamus smiled and felt that same heart-cracking feeling from earlier. "We could get a nice little flat. Or even a house, because Harry's a nice bloke who'd help a mate out."

"Well, if we're gonna go somewhere safe, we'd have to go to the muggle world, so we'd need pounds," Dean interjected.

"Right, well, we'd… I dunno, transfigure ourselves some pounds. We'd…" Seamus scrambled to think of more to say, before the moment wore off. "We'd have a dog. A really big dog who'll slobber all over the piece."

"I'm more of a cat person."

"Then we'll get both. And every other month we'll redecorate the whole house, just because we can. And we'll paint one entire room yellow so when the sun is setting, the room looks like it's been lit on fire." He paused. "And we could stay there. The war could end, or go on forever, and we'd never know the difference, 'cause we'd be happy. And we'd never have to go back."

There was a moment of silence, where the only thing Seamus could hear was Dean breathing in and out.

"Sounds nice," Dean murmured, eyes shut.

"Don't fall asleep, Dean," Seamus said, though he could feel his words slurring together with the struggle of fighting off exhaustion.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Don't fall asleep." With reluctance, Dean's eyes flickered open.

"Why?"

"Because things will be different in the morning." And then, Seamus ached and ached because even with Dean's body pressed against his, he was so far away. Seamus didn't know what else to say and Dean just blinked at him, almost expectantly.

Then, just like he'd done countless times before, he closed the last gap between him and Dean. Dean's lips were soft, warm, familiar. It was the kind of kiss that could save Seamus' life.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Just before dawn, Seamus climbed back into his own bed and tried to ignore how much colder it felt.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Oi, Seamus. _Seamus_!" He woke up to Neville practically thrashing him around on his bed.

"Bloody hell, Neville! What was that for?" Neville shrugged, sheepishly.

"Breakfast." Seamus groaned.

"Go without me. I'll be down in a second." After five minutes of stubbornly curling up under the covers, Seamus pushed himself off the bed and started to get dressed. It wasn't until he was tying his tie that he noticed. Dean had put up a picture.

It was them at the Quidditch World Cup. Their faces were painted bright red and they were screaming with applause, holding onto each other's shoulders. It was a muggle photo that his dad had insisted on taking. He still wasn't quite used to all the wizarding nonsense.

Seamus pressed a finger to the edge of the photograph. It was fading. That was the year Voldemort came back. Seamus couldn't remember what it was like to feel that happy and that safe. The little boy in that picture looked like a stranger to him. The little boy was fading too.

He knew why Dean put that picture up. They were both changing too fast. But for the first time since Seamus got to Hogwarts, he knew it was okay. He'd let those little boys fade, hand in hand. Whatever him and Dean were growing to be, they'd grow together.

Seamus pulled his tie through the loop and headed down to breakfast.


	2. the light before we land

Only a week into the school year and Dean was already drowning. For the second time, he found himself going to sleep in an empty dorm. Neville was off who-knows-where. And Seamus had kept suspiciously quiet ever since Wednesday. Dean was starting to wonder if he'd done something wrong, though he knew he hadn't. Still, the radio silence was killing him. The color was fading out of everything.

Nothing felt _right_ anymore. More and more horror stories of detention with the Carrows started to spread around the building. He'd already got a failing mark in Charms, his best class. He was around his friends everyday, but it wasn't like how things were in the summer, expectant isolation. He was thrust into loneliness while holding tightly onto Seamus' hand or clapping Neville on the back, or practicing transfiguration with Luna in the Room of Requirement. He kept trying to capture the magic they'd felt in fifth year, and even sixth year, but with Harry gone, thing were bleaker than ever.

Though he tried to stave off sleep until Seamus came up to bed, he felt his eyes start to drift shut until he slid backwards into another string of dreams.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Dean!" Seamus dragged him from the blurry world of sleep. " _Dean!_ " Like a switch was flipped everything came sharply into focus. Dean sat up bolt-right in the bed. He could barely make out Seamus' face, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window.

"Is everything okay?"

"You have to go. It's not safe. Neville's packed your bags." As Dean's eyes adjusted, he made out the faint outline of Neville, Luna and Ginny standing in front of his bed. "Tonks is coming to pick you up."

"Professor Lupin's wife? Why? Seamus, what's going on?"

"Her dad's going on the run, too, you'll be safer with him." Dean felt Seamus' arm grabbing him and yanking him out of bed. He thrust clothes into Dean's hands.

"On the _run_? Why do I have to go?" Dean asked, stripping off his pajamas, not caring that he was in front of the girls.

"Neville had detention tonight."

"Oh god, Neville-"

"I'm alright," Neville mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Seamus said holding onto Dean's shoulder, "we wanted to tell you. Neville overheard what we'd all suspected. They're planning on rounding up all the muggleborn students and turning them into Voldemort. Why do you think they've all been gone this year?"

"Rumor has it they already took Dilly's dad to Azkaban," Ginny said, gravely. The only sound that filled the room was their ragged breathing. All of them, ready to help him leave. Dean wanted to cry as Luna flipped on the light.

"There's not much time," Neville said. "I'm sorry, Dean, but we have to go."

 **-::-::-::-::-::-::-**

They rushed through the castle, ducking out of sight of Mrs. Norris and Filch, and even McGonagall who was due to be on watch. They were sure she'd seen them, but it didn't matter. They knew she'd keep quiet.

And then they stood at the gates of the castle and all that was left to do was leave. Ginny went first, grabbing Dean by the collar and pulling him into a hug so fierce it almost knocked him over. He remembered the days in sixth year where she'd lean into him under the oak tree next to the Great Lake, giving him a kiss every time the wind blew in her hair. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it might as well have been.

Luna pressed a dreamcatcher in his hand. "I've enchanted it," she said. "It'll keep you safe."

"Thanks, Luna," he said, pulling her into a soft hug.  
"Don't tell the others," she whispered into his ear, "but you'll be able to speak to me through there. Only once, and only to me." She pulled away. "I have a feeling we'll see each other sooner than you think." He nodded, afraid to say anything and spoil the moment.

Then, Neville slapped him on the back, face twisted into a pained expression and Dean knew he was trying not to cry. "Stay safe, mate." And then he turned away, rubbing at his eyes, and Dean felt the tears start to prick at his eyes, too. He didn't want to say goodbye to Seamus.

"Dean." He didn't turn around. " _Dean_." Seamus spun him around and Dean collapsed against him, ragged sobs echoing around in the wind.

"I don't want to go," he cried, getting snot all over Seamus' blazer, but Seamus just held him tighter. "Maybe if I stay, things might be alright. We could, I dunno, figure something out. Buy some time." Even while saying it, he knew it would never work. He had to go.

And then Seamus kissed him like he never had before. It was the kiss he'd been waiting for his whole life. He felt Seamus' tears blur with his own. Dean didn't know how long it went on, seconds or minutes or hours or days, even, until finally, with a shuddering breath, Seamus pulled away.

"We're going to be happy again, Dean, I promise. You're going to be free. And as soon as you are, I'll be here."

"We're gonna get that flat, yeah? With the cat?" Dean laughed, voice thick with tears. He felt Seamus nod against his forehead. And when he looked up, there was Tonks, ready to take him away from them.

"It's time to go," she said. He looked back at Seamus one more time, drinking in every freckle, every scar, every mannerism. Dean turned his back to the group, facing Tonks.

"I'm ready."


	3. gimme shelter

**has it been a million years since i updated? yes. but in my defense, i sorta abandoned this to update whenever i felt like it since i didn't really have a lot of people waiting on bated breath or anything! recently, people have taken more interest so i hope to finish this within the next two weeks or so! much love, dana xx**

It was lonely company on the run. For the first week and a half, Dean had been too depressed to move, to eat, to do anything but think. Voldemort was at large now, that he knew. What he didn't know is for how long. Was this what the rest of his life would look like? Moving from place to place in a feeble attempt to avoid death? Well, that was a kind of death as well.

In the third week, Ted - Tonks' dad - was starting to get through to him. He was sad, too, Dean could tell. But he didn't stop trying, with his feeble jokes and warm smiles. Ted had kind eyes, just like Seamus. Dean started to warm up to it in the end. He almost felt bad for not even trying to talk to Ted. They only had each other's company out here, and it was going to have to be a lifeline. Dean couldn't talk to Seamus anymore. And though he could tell Ted missed his wife and Tonks, maybe it was the father in him that tried to help Dean.

And then, a month had passed, and Dean was left simultaneously wondering how it had been that long and how it had _only_ been that long. But time didn't stop for anyone, and it certainly didn't stop for Dean. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagining he was off hiking somewhere, and that he would come home to Seamus and tell him all about it. But that wasn't what happened.

It was storming the night he met Dirk Cresswell. They'd run into some bad weather before, but nothing like this. There was no magic that could protect them from the winds. And when lightning split the tree in front of them, it was only Ted pulling him out of harm's way that kept him from being pinned under it. The rain was so fierce Dean could hardly see, and because of this, he ran smack into someone.

Instantly this person had their foot on Dean's chest and a wand pointed down. He tried to call out for Ted, but it was too loud for his voice to be heard. The rain was assaulting his face, coming down as hard as blows. For a wild, irrational moment, Dean was convinced that it was going to wash him away into the ground, until his skin was mixed in with the dirt. He shut his eyes tight.

When he felt the weight being knocked off of him. Looking up, he could just make out Ted wrestling with a man on the ground, pinning his shoulders down. Dean was so relieved, he started to laugh. The two men stopped for a second and looked at each other.

"Dirk? Is that you?" And then, right before Dean's eyes, Ted got up and extended an arm. Once Dirk was on his feet, the two men engaged in a tight embrace. They started running directly after, the storm picking up with twice the ferocity, but Dean found out later that Dirk was Ted's old co-worker.

"Never liked him all that much, to be honest, but just seeing a friendly face…" And then he smiled in an absent-minded way, as Ted was apt to do. And so their band of two became three.

 **-::-::-::-::-::-::-**

By sheer chance, they'd lucked out enough not to run into any death eaters that entire first month. The same couldn't be said for the next month. Almost every four days, they would hear wand blasts and screams just when they thought they were in the middle of nowhere. The first time, Dirk curled up and put his hands over his ears before Dean pulled him to his feet and dragged him along.

Dean thought he felt war's breath breathing down his neck before, even before he went on the run. But it started to settle in that he was listening to people dying. There was still a large part of it that felt so far away, but even he couldn't deny the immediacy any longer.

And then, Dean fell ill. He didn't remember much of that week, and it wasn't until after did he realize just how close he came. But when he was recovering, he remembered lying in some sort of makeshift tent, and he remembered Ted's face more distressed than he'd ever seen it. From all that week, his only full memory was of Ted's hand on his face and his watery voice saying, "You're only a boy."

And weeks later, when everything was quiet and solitary, Dean tried not to think about that too much. He was only a kid, but he didn't feel that way, not after everything that had happened. But he tried not to dwell on how unfair it was, because he feared that once he went down that road, there might be no coming back. Still, though, it was enticing to imagine a world where he and Seamus had gotten to be kids just a little bit longer.

He'd find himself thinking, _We might have been at a quidditch game right now,_ or _I'd be lending Seamus my notes for Potions and we'd be sitting by the fire in the common room, and Neville would have snuck us some treats from the kitchen right now_.

And he'd worry about Seamus, more than was probably healthy. Hogwarts was safer than where Dean was, but not by much, and he knew that. If there was only a way to talk to Seamus, Dean guessed the whole thing would be much easier, but that wasn't possible. Dwelling on things would never get him anywhere, and so he carried on.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Then came the fire. Dean never found out if it was death eaters or a flame carried by the wind, but it spread quickly throughout the forest. For a moment, it seemed there was no way out. But Ted, always the leader, grabbed Dirk and held him close, and then took Dean's hand and apparated them to another place to rest, a wet cave somewhere. In the morning, he apparated them back to try and salvage whatever they could. That's when they found Griphook and Gornuk.

Gornuk had been badly burned and Griphook was tending to his wounds. They could hear the screams from halfway across the wood. Now, Dean had never liked goblins. They were always cold to wizards and they were constantly suspicious. But when you see people in need, people of _any_ kind, you help them. Harry had helped teach him that.

 **-::-::-::-::-::-::-**

And so, for a while, they travelled in a group of five. In hindsight, this wasn't the best idea, and no, these people weren't the strongest fit. Dirk, smart though he was, couldn't help but express his disbelief in Harry Potter. Dean realized he must seem very abstract to people who didn't share a room with him for the past six years, but nonetheless, at times like these, won't you take every bit of hope you can get?

Griphook and Gornuk were always talking in Gobbledegook with each other, and only using English for the necessary communication.

But the more people there were, the less the loneliness sunk into his heart. But he knew, no matter how he wanted to ignore the fact, that aside from Ted, all his real friends were miles and miles and miles away.

Sometimes, though, when Ted and Dirk and the goblins had already nodded off to sleep, right in the place between awake and dreaming, Dean could swear Seamus' lips were just inches from his, just like that first night back, and if he could just close the gap...


	4. don't let me come home a stranger

Dean stepped away from the group. Dirk and Ted were huddled close, discussing their next spot to stay out and how long they'd be able to stay there, and this time Griphook and Gornuk were actually helping. But Dean couldn't tonight. He got like this sometimes, spiraled back into his mind.

He was hoping looking up at the stars with some peace and quiet might help, so he strayed from the group. The crisp February air felt cool in his lungs and he shut his eyes for moment. If he ignored everything else, it was a really beautiful night. The wind was blowing gently and he could feel it bristle his hair, already growing longer than he'd had it for years since being out here. It was weird to think that it had been almost six months since he'd last seen Seamus.

He ran his finger around the dreamcatcher. He'd kept it in his pocket since she'd given it to him. He always wondered when he should use it - when he'd need to. It felt so long since he'd last seen them, since he'd hugged Ginny, since he'd felt Seamus' lips brush against his… He'd taken them for granted for so long and now, he didn't know if he'd ever have them again. The longer he was out here, the more it felt like he was leaving them behind.

Dean looked up. The sky was littered with stars tonight, and for once, they felt a little bit brighter. He wondered is Seamus was looking out at them, too. Christmas was on its way, though Dean didn't know exactly when. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd probably being spending Christmas out in the woods, and that made him sadder than anything had for a while.

He looked out into the distance. There was a lake that stretched out farther than he could see, and he suddenly wished he could stop time and chase the end of the horizon until he caught it without fear of being struck dead by anyone who could see. He wished he could change the way things were, the way him and his friends all lived in fear, the way he felt loneliness seep into his bones.

He could be out here, wandering from place to place for _years_ , for as long as the war went on. There was no way of knowing. He could be out here so long that when he did come back, he and Seamus would barely recognize each other. It was a terrible thought, but one that surfaced often. It was possible that when Dean returned, their love would just be a painful memory. For both of them. And whatever tied him to his friends at Hogwarts would be severed.

So, without thinking, Dean put the dreamcatcher to his lips and whispered, " _Luna_ ," and before he knew it, it was glowing blue and he could hear her.

"Dean? Is everything alright?" she said, sounding only vaguely surprised. The love he felt for her in that moment multiplied by a million and for the first time in half a year, an authentic grin sprung to his face.

"Yes, yes. Sorry, I just…"

"Just a mo', Dean." He stopped and waited. If he strained his ears, he could have sworn that he could hear the crackling of fire from the common room.

"Dean?" Seamus rasped. Dean breathed in, sharply. He'd wanted to hear that voice for what sounded like forever, but from the sound of the ragged breathing, something was wrong.

"Seamus? Seamus, are you alright?

"I'm fine," he said, but Dean heard Ginny cut in next.

"He's had detention."

"I'm fine," Seamus said again, but Dean felt despair tug at him. There Seamus was getting _tortured_ and there was nothing he could do, but then, Seamus said, "Brilliant, actually, now that you're here."

"Seamus, I…"

"I know, love. Me, too." There was a pause and Dean could practically hear Seamus grinning on the other end. "How've you been, are you safe?"

"Yes, we all are. I've - I've met some others on the way and we're - I'm not alone out here."

"Good. _Good_. God, I've bloody missed you."

"I'll be back soon, I can feel it," he said, and it wasn't until he spoke it aloud to Seamus that Dean realized he believed it.

"I'm holding you to that, you know. I love you, Dean, more than you know," he said, and Dean's heart lifted so high that he felt his head was about to pop off.

"I love you, too, Seamus," Dean tried to call back, but the blue light had faded and the magic had worn off. He didn't realize he'd been crying.

But Dean just got to his feet and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. There'd be time to say it again, he knew. He'd have to believe that. Because without it, Dean really didn't know what else he was fighting for.


	5. winter '05

**er, sorry i think i may have posted them slightly out of order? this takes place december, the last one in february, but really it's fine, i think. whoops.**

Seamus looked out over the blanket of white covering the Great Lake. Little lanterns lined the shore, making the whole thing seem to glow orange. Seamus lay down in the snow, even though instantly, it slipped under his coat and down his back. He had the wild urge to make a snow angel, but he just waited until it passed. With all the warmth that seemed to come from the decorations at Hogwarts, it almost felt like old times.

He'd chosen to stay for Christmas, and the castle did a good job at trying to convince him everything was alright, but one glare from one of the Carrow's and he was reminded. It was a cold winter this time, and Seamus found himself worrying about Dean more and more. Was he keeping warm? Was he still with Ted? For all Seamus knew, Dean could be dead, but he tried not think like that.

Lately, it had felt like Seamus was sleepwalking through his days. Class to class, taking absent-minded notes, talking to Luna and Neville - Ginny had gone home for Christmas - stretching out by the fire, hoping it could warm more than just his hands. He'd been hearing of deaths in the newspapers, and of course, through Potter Watch. Just knowing Harry was out there alive gave him a tremendous amount of relief.

He was only going through the motions at this point, but looking around, that seemed to be what most everyone was doing. Really, though, Seamus knew he was waiting. For battle, for spring, but most of all, for Dean. He'd sit in class and wonder, _If Dean were here…_

He knew why Dean had to go, of course he did. But still, he knew Dean would make things better. Start a snowball fight, help Luna with an article for The Quibbler, sit with Neville, help Ginny when she was missing Harry. Most of all, let Seamus kiss him whenever he wanted to.

Wishful thinking, he realized. Seamus had all his friends around him, which was more than Dean had, but still, he felt awfully alone. Winter was trudging along, and it seemed like ages before spring would finally come.


	6. amen omen

It started as an ordinary day. When he woke up, Dean had no clue that it was going to be the last time he would see three of his friends. It was late March, about a month since he'd spoken with Seamus, but that one contact gave him a new revitalized energy.

Dirk, Ted, and Dean were all huddled together, trying to come up with a new game plan. Ted had woken up with a bad feeling about the day, and they figured, rather safe than sorry. "Now, I figure if we just make it around the next-" Ted whispered, but he was cut off by a terrible, burbling sound. He took one shaky step backwards and collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, blood bubbling at his lips.

Dean knelt down beside him quickly, there were screams all round - the Snatchers had found them at last. Though he knew he ought to be fighting, Dean couldn't bring himself to look away, to try and help Dirk. His eyes were darting back in forth in some sort of unanswerable question before finally everything in him stilled. Dirk Cresswell was died.

Ted yanked him roughly to his feet. " _Go_ ," he whispered. But Dean couldn't move. He was confronted with the staggering realization that Dirk, who just a moment ago was in front of them, breathing, planning as if he'd see the next day, not to mention the next minute, was now gone - gone wherever people go when they die. Dean had known the way Dirk ate, had grown familiar with the way he _breathed_ , the way he murmured under his breath when he was confused and now his unseeing eyes were as foreign as anything ever was to him.

A hex flew just past his shoulder and just like that, Dean roared to life. " _Stupefy!_ " His curse flew and hit a Snatcher squarely in the chest. He only had time to feel a brief rush of pride before Griphook darted in between him and Ted. "Gornuk!" he was crying. "Where's Gornuk?"

Another Snatcher collapsed to the ground, but there were still three left. Dean steeled himself ready to do whatever he had to. No one else would die today. No one else would -

Something shoved hard into his body, sending him tumbling to the ground. Frantically, Dean sat up only to see… Ted was lying facedown on the forest floor, still as ever, the fading glow of the Killing Curse lining the edges of his body.

"No," Dean said, unbelieving. " _No_." There was no one left. No more friends, no more allies. The Snatcher who had snuck up from behind him smiled gleefully, but it looked more like a snarl. Firmly, he placed a boot on Dean's chest and held his wand directly in front of him. There was no way out. No one was going to come save him. Ted was dead, Dirk was dead, Griphook was god-knows-where, and Gornuk was probably dead, too.

And Seamus was far away. Dean squeezed his eyes shut. The last moments of his life seemed to stretch out, and his mind involuntarily went to the place his heart still was. He'd never see him again, he'd never hear his voice again, hear his manic laugh when something new exploded. All that was gone forever.

He thought of Seamus at his quietest and most peaceful moments, the ones only Dean got to see. When he fell asleep in Dean's bed that first night back, his mouth slightly open and his hair already tousled. Sitting in the snow at sixth year, looking over at the iciness of the Great Lake, eyes closed and an absent-minded smile playing at his lips.

Kissing Dean the way Dean had always wanted to be kissed, holding Dean the way nobody else ever had. Whispering, "Don't fall asleep, Dean," whispering, "Dean, I love you," the silent look of despair on his face when Dean turned away from him the night he left. Screaming and clutching at Dean's arms with their faces painted red and gold the day of the Gryffindor quidditch match in fifth year. He'd wanted so many more memories like that, so many more times when he felt so good he ached, but they were never going to happen now.

Dean opened his eyes. The Snatcher looked away from him and towards his Dark Mark which was writhing around on his skin. Finally, he looked back at Dean. " _Stupefy!_ "


	7. to the ground

The dream came to Seamus in flashes, half-formed images and fully-formed thoughts. Fire. Hexes. Dean, lying still on the ground. Dean getting dragged away. The entire world getting ripped apart. Dean. Dean. "Dean!"

Someone was grabbing his shoulders, shaking him roughly, but the dream didn't want to let him go. He was awake now, his sheets wet with sweat, and face wet with tears. Someone was calling his name, but he couldn't tear himself away from the image to realize who it was, or what they wanted. Even though the moon was glowing through the window and everything else was still, all Seamus could think about was the dream. It felt different than dreams usually did, harder, more disjointed, but more solid, too.

"Hang on, I'm going to get Ginny." Neville's voice floated towards him and he tried to steady his breathing, tried to push himself up, but by the time he did, Neville was already gone. He shivered and pulled his covers closer to him, trying and failing to find some warmth. He grabbed tightly at his skin as if he could pull himself apart as easily as a piece of parchment. After an eternity, Ginny and Neville came blundering into the room. All over again, Seamus felt himself start to break down, the dream calling his name even stronger.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, he was having a nightmare, but he won't come out of it."

"It wasn't a nightmare," Seamus mumbled, trying to hold back a sob. Ginny strided over and pulled the covers off him. The cold air hit Seamus like a slap, and he reached for them again. Ginny placed her hand on his forehead, grabbing his shoulder with the other.

"You're burning up, are you ill?"

"Something's wrong."

"Seamus, tell us where it hurts," Ginny said, and Seamus felt like screaming.

"No, I'm not - Something's wrong with _Dean_."

"Seamus, mate," Neville started, stepping forward, "what are you talking about?"

"I saw him. I saw him getting - I don't know - I saw -"

"That was just a dream. A bad dream." Ginny glanced up at Neville.

"No, none of this is a bad dream, alright? This is happening!" He tore out of bed, and turned on the light, wincing at his brightness. "He's out there, in the cold, god knows where, so don't _tell_ me it's just a dream!" They stayed silent, but Seamus wished they'd say something, wish they'd yell back. It was too quiet, but the sound of Dean's screams were still roaring in his ears.

"Seamus," Ginny started, carefully, "he's probably fine. We just spoke to him a month ago."  
"Yeah? Where's Luna? When's the last time we spoke to her? Over Christmas break, so she's probably fine, huh?"

Ginny's face hardened to stone and Seamus knew he'd made a mistake, but he couldn't take the words back. He hung his head, trying to hold back all of his emotions and failing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I just - I can't do it without him. I can't do it." Seamus wanted to burn everything up, just like he did in first year, watch everything crumble to the ground just so the whole bloody world could now how it felt. Ginny's cool hand wrapped around his shoulders, ever the forgiving type, and Seamus really thought in that moment that he didn't deserve her. He took a few shuddering breaths and tried to calm himself. "He doesn't feel away. He feels gone."

Neville came and sat beside him. For a moment, the three of them stayed quiet. Nothing had felt right since Dean left, but this came sort of close. He didn't want to say it out loud, though, for fear that something listening would hear and snatch it away. So he stayed content to sit there with him for a little while, until finally Ginny made him crawl back into bed and go to sleep. He didn't have any more dreams that night.


	8. painter song

**sorry i haven't updated for a million years even though it was already finished and written i just didn't really feel like posting another chapter for the one person reading it lmao but i hope you like this one it's one of my favorites**

Dean didn't realize how nice a soft bed to sleep in and a home-cooked meal would be until he got one. He slept for almost two days straight after arriving to Shell Cottage. Words couldn't describe his ecstasy upon learning that not only Harry was alive, but Ron and Hermione, too. He didn't expect to see Luna there, either, but when they all got to safety he wanted to cry with relief.

And then he saw Dobby, cradled in Harry's arms. He'd seen so much death in the past two days and he felt his heart couldn't take another one, even if he didn't really know Dobby all that well. But still, he dug the grave and gave him a hat and tried not to hear Ted's body hitting the ground every time he closed his eyes.

Hermione had a close call, but luckily, Ron had been spending every possible minute with her. When Dean passed by their room the first night, he saw him awake, holding her hand and just looking at her with so much love in his eyes Dean longed to be with Seamus. Sometimes he heard him reading to her, and her laughter tinkling all the way to Dean's room. But soon enough, she was on her feet again.

It was clear that the three of them were planning something, and though Dean knew he ought to help, he couldn't bring himself to ask if they needed any. He just wanted to be taken care of, to be tucked into bed, to have someone make him hot tea and bake brownies for him.

Fleur was more than happy to do all that, and soon enough, Dean would help her in the kitchen, cooking things for all of them. She looked far more tired than she had in his fourth year, but still beautiful as ever. He never even realized how kind she was.

Mostly, though, he spent his time with Luna, who had clearly been through a lot but was still as peaceful as ever. Their room in Shell Cottage had lots of windows, and the light flowed golden through the windows. Luna set herself up an easel with some makeshift paints and she'd spend all day painting. Dean liked to watch her do it. There was something so pleasant in the idea that even after everything there could still be something so beautiful in the world.

It really did feel like a shelter away from the war, and though Dean knew it wouldn't last forever, he decided to just go with it. He wished he could paint like Luna, but he was quite rubbish.

He'd like to bring Seamus to Shell Cottage. He'd love it, the sun, the air, the smells, everything. If he pretended really hard when he was going to sleep, he could almost convince himself that it was the little flat they'd talked about way back in September. But he couldn't bring Seamus there, so he wanted to do in a painting. He tried, but he couldn't capture what he'd wanted to.

All he knew was that if Seamus there, it might have felt just like old times. He could picture it, lying on their backs in the warm sand, looking up at the swirling blue sky. He would capture that invented memory forever if he could, but he'd have to settle for the daydream for now.


	9. long way home

It was almost one day after Harry, Ron and Hermione left that Neville summoned Dean and Luna back to Hogwarts. This was it. This was really it. It was raining lightly when they left Shell Cottage and Dean looked over at Luna, little droplets getting caught in her hair, and he saw what he felt mirrored in her eyes: fear, exhilaration, excitement. They were ready, and if they weren't, they were going to have to be.

The wind was lightly pulling at Dean, and he felt the urgency draw near. Was he really about to see Seamus again? After everything, after all that time, would he really be able to hold him again? Dean started to believe it was never going to happen. He still had the memory of Seamus's fingers lingering on his face just before he left.

That felt like a different person. It had been a long year, and finally it seemed that it was drawing to a close. Dean was nervous about the battle, about everything, but strangely, above all, he was more nervous about seeing Seamus again than anything, but still, he trudged on. This was about more than them. This was about finally putting things right, for all of them. For Ted, for Dirk, for everyone who had died, and for everyone who had been left behind.

He looked at Shell Cottage for what may be the last time and realized that he very well may die tonight. He took it all in. No matter what the outcome, everything was going to change.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Hand in hand, they all apparated, and finally they made it. Hogsmeade was in disarray and Dean could tell that the battle was already starting. Through the secret entrances they ran and ran and then, finally, into the building. He was hit with nostalgia so strong he wanted to crumple to the ground and cry. It smelled just as he had remembered, and it looked as if it had barely changed. But there would be time later to reminisce. Now, they had somewhere to be. Dean and Luna knew exactly where to go: The Room of Requirement.

When the doors opened, time seemed to stop. There he was, looking just as beautiful as he had the day he left. When Seamus met Dean's eyes, his entire face seemed to light up, come alive, and instantly he roared in delight and ran to Dean. With all the ferocity he could muster, Dean clutched at Seamus, held him as tightly as he ever had.

His hands grabbed at the small of Seamus' back, and it was like Dean couldn't get enough of his nearness. He heard Seamus laughing, out of relief and joy, and it was met back just as equally by Dean's laughter, bursting out of him without even trying to.

He had no wand, and no reason to feel lucky and yet, with Seamus' hand in his, there was a newfound confidence. They were both going to survive, and they were all going to win. Dean was sure of it. If there was love this strong in the world, then it would be enough to win any battle that needed fighting.

There was finally an end in sight, and no matter how it ended up, they'd go down together.


	10. running on faith

k its over go home (also go follow me on tumblr kirayukimuras)

All Seamus had been thinking about since the battle ended was how soon everything would return to normal. Well, it hadn't happened yet. Hogwarts was basically destroyed, and so, so many were dead. It was only sheer luck that he and Dean made it out alive. He disarmed a death eater and managed to get Dean a bloody wand, but if he hadn't, who's to say what would've happened?

But now that they were together, now that the fighting was over, he wondered why things still felt so different than they had. But still, he believed that things would turn out alright in the end. It had worked for them so far.

 **-::-::-::-::-::-::-**

Seamus watched Dean sleep. He'd been having trouble nodding off himself, but then again, that was always true. And it was only when he was sleeping that Dean looked peaceful nowadays. But even then, it was disturbed. Dean started to toss a little more, and Seamus shifted, wondering if -

"No," Dean murmured, "no." Lightly, Seamus shook his shoulder until Dean blinked his eyes open.

"Again?" Seamus asked, and Dean nodded sitting up. "I'll go make some tea," he said, but Deamus grabbed his arm.

"Don't go."

Seamus nodded, crawling back under the covers and curling up in the crook of Dean's arm. A lot had changed, but how well he fit there stayed exactly the same.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It was until about a month after the battle that Seamus realized things probably weren't going to go back to normal. And he also realized that it was okay. They couldn't go back to being the kids they used to be, not after everything they'd been through. Whatever they ended up growing to be, they'd grow together, hand in hand. That was enough for him.


End file.
